"Those with the greatest awareness have the greatest nightmares."


Within the mind of Taemin

The sky above me is covered with thin, gray clouds.
The earth below me is covered with patches of dark brown grass.
I stand on the edge of an overbearing mountain.

I look at the sharp, deep red rocks sparkling with malice below the safeguard of the mountain.
They beckon me to join them in their nefarious bed.

"Come with us, Taemin," they say with false compassion, "Come lay with us in our bed.
It is in our home that the sun shines bright and the world is a happy place,
And it is here in our bed that the sensation of falling will be hidden forever by systematic situation."

As I stare consideringly at the rocks smiling invitingly in the direction of my cloudy eyes, small stones begin to crumble away from the protection of the mountain.

I watch the stones fall to the land of their more powerful and wise ancestors.

When the little pebbles unexpectedly enter the home of the titanic rocks, they turn to ash.

The father rocks break free from their stationary states and stomp towards the small piles of ash.

Suddenly, hungrily, right before my eyes, they consume the ashes.

After they swallow the ashes, they grow taller and wider. Deeply poisonous laughs escape from their cores as they become larger than they were before.
 

"Come join us, Taemin," they cry,
"We want to make you our brother."

I remain still for a few moments.
In the piercing silence the devilish rocks smile their snide smiles.

I take a deep breath and close my eyes.

As I exhale and open my eyes again, I viciously scream:

"I know what you want with me, savage tempters!
I will never join you!"

The gargantuan rocks growl deep, low growls and begin to rise from their cracked, ancient bed.

"Alright, Taemin," the largest rock in the bed yells sharply, "So be it."

The elder rocks begin to stampede towards the mountain.
Their faces are empty and evil and their intentions are obvious.

They want me.
They want to consume me.

I try to run away from the ascending rocks, but as they swiftly approach, the mountain begins to collapse.
I can hear the rocks growing closer and closer.
I stand paralyzed and helpless on top of a breaking fortress.

'What should I do now?
Should I stay here and be eaten alive -
Or should I jump?'

As I distressingly weigh my options, the grandfather rocks reach the top of my haven and charge at me.

'It's now or never.
Just do it, Taemin!
Don't do it for yourself;
Do it for him.
Yes, do it for Minho.'

The leader of the clan of rock-gods slides toward me with outreached claws.

'Give me strength, Minho.
Jump with me.'

With this thought, I coil my legs and spring from the top of the mountain.
And with this thought, I begin to fall.

As I am falling, I can hear his voice.
And as I hear his voice, I see him falling next to me.

He is crying.
He is broken.
He is dead.

I reach for his hand, but he does not see me.

"Minho, take my hand. Please, Minho! We can get through this together."

Minho does not look at me.
Minho does not take my hand.
He just limply falls and sobs by my side.

"Minho, please! Don't ignore me. Don't do this to me, Minho! I can help you! We can get through this...together."

Minho's sobs begin to soften.
He looks at his hands.
He then picks up his head and looks at me.
Tears are streaked down his face.

His face is lifeless.

He has been crying.
He has been broken.
He is dead.

"Now, Minho! Take my hand! Let's get through this together."

Minho slowly wipes the tears from his cheeks.
He uncurls his fingers and looks at the open palm of his hand.
He then looks at my genuine countenance.

As he reaches his hand out for me to take, he begins to fade away.

"Minho! No, Minho, NO! Don't leave me, Minho! Not now!"

He cries as he dissolves.
And when he finally disappears,
I start to fall faster.

 

I am now alone.
And I long for his presence.

I look beneath my feet and see the ground approaching ever too quickly.

"Minho," I say sullenly as I fall closer and closer to the rocky earth,"I love you."

And with these words I hit the ground.
And everything around me turns black.
 

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"Et disen yushel perdi alomni sulten."

The words hang in my ears.
I am dead. I must be.

"Taemin," a voice says calmly,
"Open your eyes."
 

'Where am I?
Am I in heaven?
Or perhaps in a hospital?
Could I have survived the impact?
Could I have finally overcome the sensation of falling?'

I open my eye lids slowly.
Bright sunlight fills my hazy eyes.
As my pupils dilate, I can see someone standing before me.

It is her. It is the beautiful, angelic girl.

"Rowena," I say quietly and confusedly, "Where am I?"

"Taemin, you were asleep," she says in a soothing tone.
"It was only a dream, Taemin.
You never were falling."

She reaches out her hand, and I take it acceptingly.
She helps me rise to my feet.

"Rowena," I start curiously, "How did you know...how did you know that I was...falling?"

She moves slightly closer to me.
She gently takes a bright, white daisy from her hair and places it masterfully in my own.

"Im frunsh engal listi olgan arunti," she says as she slides her hand down the shaggy strands of my hair.

"Rowena, I don't understand..."
"Hush..." she orders abruptly.

She moves her hand down to my cheeks.
Her fingers dance along my jaw bone.
Her touch is so sweet and so awakening.

As she touches my face, I feel a strange sense of comfort and internal peace overtake my whole being.

"I am a dream watcher," she says as she takes her hand away from my face.

"A...dream watcher?"

"Yes, Taemin. I am a dream watcher."

"Um, Rowena," I begin, trying hard to mask the bewildered expression crawling onto my face, "What...is a dream watcher exactly?"

She laughs silently at my question.

"Do you know how old I am, Taemin?"

I look at her face. Her skin is unblemished and glowing.
Her eyes have the same sparkle that young, naive children have when they learn new lessons of life.
Her hair shines in the sunlight.
She stands happily, swaying in time to silent songs of the earth as she patiently awaits my reply.

"No, Rowena. I don't know how old you are."

"Taemin, I'm over six hundred years old."

I can't help but drop by jaw.
As I stand there agape, she lets out a friendly chuckle.

"Dream watchers live for thousands of years, Taemin. Yet in all of our years of living, we are only able to see the dreams of one person; except in my case, of course, for I have come to see the dreams of two people. The rest of our lives are spent observing the universe. Oh, the world is such a lovely place, Taemin! There are so many wonderful people and so many wonderful places to see! But while there is so much beauty in this world, there is also much hatred. I have witnessed many battles and many losses. I have seen many people take the lives of others -
And I have seen many people take their own lives."

She stops swaying to the music of the earth.
She becomes uncomfortably stiff and sorrowful.

"I'm sorry that you had to see all of that, Rowena."

I want to reach for her hand, but I am scared that if I make the attempt, she will run away.

"Yes, it is sad, isn't it? But that is what a dream watcher must do. We prepare for hundreds of years so we can see every single dream our assigned human dreams. You know, Taemin, dreams are very tricky. Most dreams come from the unconscious mind. While these dreams are usually the most revealing and enlightening, they are the hardest for dream watchers to read. This is why we must prepare for so many years - so that we can see each of these unconscious thoughts and come to understand the deepest unspoken desires of our humans. But these are not the only dreams that exist - there are also times that dreams come from the Master of Dreams."
 

"The Master of Dreams?"

"Yes. He weaves creative and cunning chimeras for people in need of help or comfort. His dreams are the most beautiful dreams I have ever seen. The sad thing is, humans never know when they experience one of his illusions. They are instantly forgotten upon waking. It makes me sad to think about."

She pauses for a moment. She lifts her head and gazes into the empty sky. She swings contently and smiles at the thought of the beautiful dreams I have experienced in the past.

"I can remember every dream given to you by the Master of Dreams.
Oh, Taemin, I wish you could remember them also!"

"I do too, Rowena.
Wait...Rowena...you said that your kind can see the dreams of only one person?
Well, then...why is it that you can see the dreams of two people?

Who else's dreams can you see besides mine?"

She stops moving altogether.

The smile on her face turns into an expression of great remorse.

Her eyes become the lightest shade of blue I have ever seen.

She hangs her head for a few seconds, then picks it up and looks straight into my eyes.
 

"I can also see...the dreams of your friend.
Minho."

After she speaks to me, she looks at her bare feet.

Her whole body appears to be drained.

She seems to be growing paler.

Her hair turns into a rich ebony color and her lips turn from their beautiful, inviting shade of pink to a deep, mournful red.

Black tears begin to fall from her eyes.

As her tears hit the earth, the grass withers away and is replaced by tangled, thorn covered vines.

"Rowena, why...why does my...why does Minho make you so...distraught?"

She does not move a muscle.
She just drops her head and allows the tears to fall freely from her eyes.

I lift her head up gingerly with my hand.
She jumps at the touch of my skin.

While she props her head upright, she doesn't bother to look into my eyes.
Instead, she looks far beyond my face into an invisible world that I cannot see.

"Oh, Taemin! His dreams...they are so...terrible...so...horrific!
I just...I can't bear to watch them...
But...I must..."

"Rowena," I cut her off before she can say anything more,
"What does he dream about? What does Minho dream about?"

She instinctively grabs my hand.
Her nails dig into my skin.
Pain begins to overrun my entire body.

"Rowena, let go! You're hurting me!"

She does not let go. Her grip gets tighter and tighter.
I scream alarmingly, but she does not seem to notice.

Her eyes turn black.

Her skin turns black.

The sunlight around us disappears and the earth itself turns black.

Cold, strong wind begins to blow around us as everything comes to naught.

"Ils erfundi yundi serventte andul," she hisses.

Her face has lost all of its light.

The pain in my hand pulses quickly throughout my body, causing me to scream louder.

"Du furnist, Lucifer. Du furnist danisti."

I cannot take the excruciating discomfort any longer.
I fall to my knees and begin to weep.

"Please, Rowena, please let me go!"


She finally releases her grip on my hand.

The moment she releases me, the wind begins to carry me away.

I try to find something to hold on to, but everything that was once here has vanished.

"Rowena, help me! Help me, PLEASE!"

She does not move from where she is standing.

She begins to disappear into the darkness that has consumed the world around us.

"Du furnist danisti, Lucifer. Damn you, Satan. Damn you for eternity."

 

With these words, she is lost in the darkness.

With these words, the darkness around me penetrates my mind and puts me to sleep.

With these words, I feel the sensation of falling take over my body again.

And I wish that it would stop.




 

Observing the reality of Minho

The ceiling above me is covered with thick, brown stains.
The floor below me is covered with dirt and drops of my own blood.
I sit on the edge of my small, uncomfortable bed.
I look at the cold, coiled hands of the doctors as they stare questioningly at my best friend.

"Come with us, Minho," they say with false compassion, "Come speak with us in a more comfortable room. It is in this room that we will find out if there is any way we can help your brother. It is in this room that everything will be alright."

As I stare consideringly at the doctors smiling indifferently in the direction of my red, tear filled eyes, a strident, urgent signal sounds in the room next to ours.

I watch the doctors run to the aid of their more weak and helpless patient.

When the doctors hurriedly exit the room, my friend moans.
I break loose from my sorrowful lethargy and rush towards my defenseless companion.

Quickly, carefully, before the eyes of God, I take his hand. As I hold his hand, his body seems to become smaller and frailer.

I begin to sob deeply sorrowful sobs.

I can hear the Angel of Death speaking lies to him.

"Come join me, Taemin. I want to make you my brother."

I stop crying for a few moments and remain still.
And in the piercing silence, the Angel smiles his snide smile.

After I take a deep breath and close my eyes, I viciously scream:

"I know what you want with my friend, you savage tempter! He will never join you!"

The wicked Angel growls a deep, low growl. His figure remains hidden within the walls of the lonely room.

"You are one to speak," he replies just as viciously, "It is you that has ruined him forever.
You have killed him."

The Dark Angel begins to scream a blood curdling scream.

His face appears on the monitor sustaining my friend's life.

His face is empty and evil and his intentions are obvious.

He wants Taemin.
He wants to consume Taemin.

I try to hide my face from the screaming Servant of Satan, but as my face rests in my hands, my friend's monitor begins to wail.
I can hear its cries growing louder and louder.
I sit paralyzed and helpless in the middle of my worst nightmare.

'What should I do now?
Should I stay here and be eternally tortured, or should I stop everything by taking my life?'

As I distressingly weigh my options, the lines covering my friend's monitor begin to descend sharply.

'It's now or never.
Just do it, Minho!
Don't do it for yourself,
Do it for him.
Yes, do it for Taemin.'

The possessed Angel begins to tug on my friend's life lines with his spiteful grin.

'Give me strength, Taemin. Help me carry on.'

With this thought, I coil my legs and spring toward the Angel.

And with this thought, I tear the Angel away from him.

And as the Angel retreats, I can hear his voice.

And as I hear his voice, I see my friend start to die right next to me.

He is whimpering.
He is broken.
He is dead.

I reach for his hand even though I know that he does not want me to touch him.

"Taemin, hold my hand. Please, Taemin! We can get through this together."

His chest begins to rise and fall harmonically.

He sighs a small sigh and turns on his side.

He then curls his fingers weakly around mine.

But as I touch his arm with my other hand, his monitor begins to beep uncontrollably.

"Taemin! No, Taemin, NO! Don't leave me, Taemin! Not now!"

The monitor beeps once more, and then stops altogether.
When the noise stops, the lines on the monitor stop moving.

 

I am now hopelessly afraid,
And I long for him to wake.

I look at the face of my best friend and wail in sorrow.

"Taemin," I say shakily as he comes closer and closer to Death, "I love you."

And with these words a doctor rushes into the room.

And in his hands are two black resuscitators.

And as he yells and violently presses the resuscitators to my friend's chest, I fall to the ground.

Everything around me turns black

And I feel the sensation of falling consume me.





"Et disen yushel perdi alomni sulten. You are in the arms of safety."

The words hang heavily in my ears.
 

'He is dead. He must be.'

"Minho, open your eyes."

I nervously allow my eyelids to part.
In front of me sits the same doctor who rushed to the aid of my friend.

In his hand is a large, golden book.
On the front cover of the book is a black raven donned in sparkling white roses.

I look over his shoulder and see my best friend sleeping as if nothing ever happened.

"Don't worry about him," the doctor says smugly yet reassuringly, "It happens all the time to coma patients."



I hate that word. Coma.

It reminds me that my friend does not know that I am regretting everything I have done.

It reminds me that no matter what I do, he will never know that I am regretting everything I have done.

It reminds me that I am to blame for everything.



"Don't worry, Minho. He will be alright."

The doctor pauses for a moment and awkwardly holds his golden book.

"We would never let anything happen to him."

As much as I want to believe the doctor, I cannot.
I know in my heart that there is no such thing as a happy ending.
I know that, in reality, evil always wins.

If good always rises victorious, why is there still evil in this world?

If good always rises victorious, why do I exist?

"Minho, you must listen to me," the doctor starts seriously, "I know that this whole thing is difficult for you, but you must tell us what happened. We must know, Minho."

I stare ahead at the wall from where the Evil Angel spoke to me.

I long to see my friend smile again.

I long to see him unharmed.

And I wish that I was not to blame for anything.

"Can you do that for me, Minho? Will you tell me what happened?"

I stay silent for a long while.
The doctor sits patiently and awaits my answer.

The quiet whimpers of my friend and the beeping of his monitor are the only sounds that can be heard in the room.

I turn towards my friend once more.


I have had enough of covering up my guilt.
I have had enough of pretending that I am not to blame for anything.


Look at him.
Look at my best friend.

He is lost in a world of dreams.

He is being consumed by the very threads of reality.

And, worst of all, he does not know that he is dreaming.

Whatever he is dreaming about will be a perfect reality to him.

'Oh, God, if you are listening, please don't let my friend have nightmares.
Please don't let him be afraid.

He doesn't deserve to be tortured.

I deserve to be tortured.

And please, God, please, above all,
Let him know that I am sorry.

 

I have had enough of being mute.

I have had enough of being a silent, selfish sinner.

I want to save him.

I have to save him.'

 

"I'm...I'm ready..." I whisper in a defeated tone,

"...I'm ready to tell you everything."